


It's Not Tag

by Watermelonsmellinfellon



Series: Prompt Shots [16]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cute, Feels, Fluff, Implied Relationships, Implied Romance, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, OTP Feels, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 04:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7300195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watermelonsmellinfellon/pseuds/Watermelonsmellinfellon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>@sorimelove on Tumblr Prompted: How about a johnlock oneshot of them playing tag on the roofs of London for a "prize".</p><p>A/N: Fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not Tag

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up fluffy and not sexy, sorry.

**A/N: Hello, people!**

**I don’t own Sherlock.**

**I have no beta.**

**ENJOY!**

**CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR.[HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON](http://helly-watermelonsmellinfellon.tumblr.com/). I FOLLOW BACK.**

* * *

 

They did this too often. Quite frankly, John had to wonder if Sherlock never played tag when he was a little kid. The fact the two grown men were running about London’s rooftops, playing a game of tag, should have given him some kind of hint.

But he got nothing.

All he knew was that there was a certain amount of danger in this and that Sherlock was incredibly fast. So it was fun to avoid death and try to catch up to him.

That time where his short legs did John a great disservice.

But as previously stated, it was fun. And it was also a way to stay fit. Besides, if they were going to be chasing after suspects on foot, then it ‘would help to know the layout of upper London’. ‘Upper’ being anything more than fifty feet above ground level.

Sherlock claimed it was a sort of training and had even promised some kind of reward should John manage all the way without stopping, but John knew the truth. It was totally a game to Sherlock and the brunet was getting his jollies off on being chased down by someone not intending to do him any harm.

John also secretly thought he was replacing boring memories from his childhood, but intended to keep that assumption to himself for the time being.

“You’re slowing down, John!” Sherlock taunted, which pushed the blond into moving a little faster, but not too much so that he didn’t wear himself out.

The ‘prize’ for this game was a whole weekend holiday to some place that Sherlock had chosen but wouldn’t tell John where. John had a feeling they’d be going anyway, whether he managed to get back to Baker Street without stopping or not.

Rarely did they ever get to go and relax, and Sherlock wasn’t even the kind to relax, so John was sure that either a case was in the place of his choosing, or he had found some interesting lore about the place and wanted to verify it all himself.

Sherlock firmly believed that once someone has disproven all facts and impossibilities, whatever remained, however improbable, had to be true. As a scientist at heart, Sherlock was always looking to disprove theories and myths. He never outwardly stated something was impossible until he went and proved that it was.

So for all John knew, they were going to go to a haunted house for the weekend.

Of course with Sherlock, anything would be entertaining, so John wasn’t complaining. As long as it wasn’t a repeat of Baskerville, he’d have no trouble.

John leaped over a large gap and tucked and rollled when he landed in order to lessen the impact on his ankles. He continued to run, noticing that Sherlock’s coat flapped behind him, much like a cape. Did Sherlock do that deliberately?

Somewhere, a few blocks away from Baker Street, Sherlock whirled around suddenly, stopping where he was, which in turn caused John to nearly slam into him, but he managed to wheel around the other man and stop a few feet away.

“Was there a reason you just suddenly stopped? I could have bloody bowled you over!”

Sherlock ignored him, in favour of standing still and staring at the roof. “I have realised something.”

“Oh? Do tell. Does it involve the reason of why you nearly let me rugby tackle you?”

Sherlock didn’t answer. Instead, the curly haired man’s head tilted to face John, his blue eyes alight with something unknown to John. Sherlock never looked at him like that. Sometimes a fond smile over something John said or did. Sometimes an intense stare whenever something deep and important occurred between them. But this look had never been sent his way before.

“John, I’m going to give you a list of words and you will tell me the first thing that comes to your mind. Don’t think, just answer.”

John blinked, but nodded.

“Blue.”

“Sherlock.”

“Brown.”

“Sherlock.”

“Skull.”

“Sherlock.”

“Friend.”

“Sherlock.”

“Purple.”

“Sherlock.”

“Thai.”

“Sherlock.”

“Brolly.”

“Mycroft.”

Sherlock paused, but gave a slow nod.

“Gun.”

“Sherlock.”

“Why am I almost _every_ answer?”

John flushed. “Um… Your hair is brown, your eyes are blue, you wear tight purple shirts and have a skull too. You mess with my gun, you sometimes eat Thai when I ask you to, and you’re my best friend.”

Sherlock was staring at the roof again. “John, what do you think of me?”

“I think you’re a mad bastard most of the time, but you’re a good kind of mad bastard. You make me laugh almost all of the time and I know for a fact that you like me more than most people, so you give me leeway that others don’t get. You watch out for my health more than your own. You run off my dates because you’re jealous and don’t like to share attention. You’re lonely, but don’t want to admit it. You actually care very deeply about others and what they think of you, but you try to hide it. You’re a complex character with too many nuances for boring, normal people to see. But I think I’m steadily learning about all of them. And I like what I see.”

John was not… used to admitting his feelings for people, aloud. It was usually a thing he kept in the private recesses of his heart, but with Sherlock he always ended up talking. Sherlock inspired truth from John and John didn’t like lying to him, or withholding information. Besides, Sherlock would most likely deduce what happened anyway, so being upfront was the best course of action.

There was a small smile on Sherlock’s face. One that John did not get to see very often, but liked nonetheless. It was a Sherlock-expressing-himself kind of smile. And it was strangely beautiful.

Sherlock sent him an intense look, before ruining the moment with, “You stopped running.”

John sputtered. “You made me, you dick!”

“Technically, I did not make you do anything. You stopped of your own accord. You could have continued on to Baker Street on your own.”

“I don’t like being alone,” admitted John, with a frown. “And I don’t like leaving _you_ alone. You always get hurt in some way and what if I’m not there?”

“You really care, don’t you?” Sherlock murmured, looking at John as if he was some novel thing that Sherlock was interested in dissecting.

“Yes,” was the firm reply.

Sherlock turned to face his friend and lifted a hand to poke John’s chest. “Eyes dilated and heart rate up by ten percent. Do you know what that tells me, John?”

John flushed immediately, because yes, he did know very well and had hoped he could keep it to himself.

Sherlock, who had no respect for personal boundaries, leaned in very close, using his height to keep John in place, making him feel much smaller than John really was.

“I think… I can admit to suffering the same symptoms.”

And then Sherlock was stalking away, his coat flapping in the breeze. “Come, John! We are going to Liverpool this weekend. And maybe, while there, we can explore this… attraction between us.”

And the smirk Sherlock sent over his shoulder, made John’s whole body tingle with the realisation that he’d just pretty much got a confession from Sherlock.

His jaw would not return to its rightful place.

* * *

 

** A/N: DONE! **

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** See ya! :D **

** CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. [HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON](http://helly-watermelonsmellinfellon.tumblr.com/). I FOLLOW BACK. **

**Author's Note:**

> How was it?


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